


Gravity’s tight jealousy

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Running on Fumes [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fem!Every grandchild of Finwe, Gen, Rule 63, The Great Finwian Track & Field Genderswap AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which everyone is a girl, everyone runs track, and I hum the Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner to myself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravity’s tight jealousy

“It was one race,” said Maedhros, trying to get Fingon to meet her eyes.

“Every race counts,” said Fingon, refusing to look at her. “And I blew it.” 

“It’s not even an invitational. Just a dual. The season’s early, you’ve got plenty of time – ” 

“It should have been an easy win!” Fingon drove her fist into the ground. “What a fucking waste. My time was worse than it was when I was a _freshman_.” 

Maedhros caught her chin and held it, looking at her seriously. “One race, Fin. This won’t even affect you qualifying for regionals.” 

“But it _shouldn’t have happened._ ” Fingon looked up at her, agonized, and swiped angrily at the wetness in her eyes. 

“These things happen to everyone,” Maedhros began, but Fingon pulled away. 

“To beginners,” she said, bitterly. “I miscounted – I _fell_ – I haven’t made a mistake like that since middle school.” 

“Look, I don’t even know how you do the hurdles,” said Maedhros, trying to placate her. “I’d trip instantly.” 

“As if.” Fingon snorted, but her lips twitched. “You’re so tall, you’d barely have to break stride to get over them.” 

“You know how clumsy I am,” said Maedhros. “The reason I keep telling coach I won’t do high jump isn’t because I want ‘focus on my mile.’ It’s because I’m terrified I’d go flying into the bar like an idiot the first time I missed my step count.” 

“You’d do a wonderful Fosbury Flop,” said Fingon, smiling for real now. 

“Emphasis on the flop.”

Fingon laughed, and Maedhros smiled at the sound. “Honestly,” she said softly, tucking a strand of dark hair back behind Fingon’s ear. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Your father would say that we should be our own harshest critics,” said Fingon. “And that we should take each failure seriously, because if we don’t, we must not truly want to win.” 

“And he is no longer our coach,” said Maedhros lightly. “So.” 

There was a silence. 

Fingon heaved a sigh and stared at her sneakers. “…and now I have to race against you.” 

“Race _with_ me, technically.”

“Technically.” 

“We are on the same team.” 

“Yes, but,” Fingon looked up, grinning, “my competition’s not coming from the other team.” 

“Hah.” Maedhros reached out and tugged Fingon close. “You’ll probably just out-kick me at the end, like always, like the sprinter witch that you are.” 

“Probably,” Fingon lifted her face to Maedhros. Maedhros kissed her then, gently at first but then with increasing hunger, her hand wrapping into Fingon’s hair, tousling the gold ribbon tied around the base of Fingon’s ponytail. 

“I wish the meet was over already,” Fingon whispered, and Maedhros buried her face in Fingon’s neck, lips seeking the places that made Fingon shiver and sigh against her. 

“If it was over already you couldn’t beat me in the 8,” murmured Maedhros, kissing Fingon on the lips again. 

“But if it was over I could do all the things I want to do to you.” 

Maedhros nuzzled at the other girl’s ear, smiling at the noise she made. “Don’t bet on it. You know how my father hustles us away after meets.”

“I don’t care. I’d sneak over to your house and you could meet me in the woods and – ” 

“I’m supposed to help Curvo with her geometry homework tonight, and babysit the twins, and – ” 

“Just let me fantasize, okay, Mae?” 

Maedhros laughed. Fingon slid into Maedhros’ lap, straddling her cousin’s thighs, and Maedhros ran her hands up Fingon’s lean, strong quads, teasing lightly at the edge of her skintight racing briefs. 

Fingon shuddered. “Don’t get me wound up now, of all times.” 

“Good energy to take into the race,” said Maedhros, growing distracted by the curve of Fingon’s breasts under her singlet. 

“You’re probably just trying to sabotage me with your sexual wiles.” 

“Are you kidding? If either of us were to try sabotage, it would definitely be – ” 

“Maedhros?” a voice called from out of sight, and both girls sprang apart guiltily. “Have you found her?”

“Yes, Coach,” Maedhros called back, straightening her top and running an absent hand over her hair, tightening her ponytail. “We’re coming.” 

“If only,” murmured Fingon, and grinned as Maedhros shot her a look. 

- 

Back at the track, Fingon was all cheerful good spirit, full of congratulations for the other girls, exchanging high fives with Aredhel who’d just thrown a PR for javelin. Maedhros smiled to herself, twitching out her ankles as she tried to bring herself into her racing mindset. One would never know that Fingon had ever experienced anger or frustration over her botched race, an attitude that she knew had an effect on the younger girls on the team. Though Fëanor would dismiss it out of hand as gross nepotism, Fingolfin had made the right call making Fingon team captain. Even if she was only a junior. 

Maedhros closed her eyes and counted her breaths, bringing herself into the still place of concentration that she sought before every race. 

 _One, two. In, out. Breathe in serenity, exhale anxiety_. Somehow, this was easier to do now that her father wasn’t at the sidelines for every race, his grey eyes piercing beneath his baseball cap, his stopwatch in his hand… 

A warm presence at her side made her open her eyes. Fingon was beside her, bouncing on her toes, radiating the barely restrained excitement she had before every race. She swung her legs out, one at a time, like she did before the hurdles. 

“If I can beat you, I will,” she said, a light in her eyes. 

“Likewise,” said Maedhros, coolly, but she smiled. 

The whistle. 

“Ladies for the 800,” the official cried, and gestured. “Number one, here.” She pointed and Fingolfin nodded at Maedhros, who took her spot on the inside. “Number two.” Fingon joined Maedhros on the line, their shoulders brushing.

As the official called up the rest of the heat, the two girls exchanged one last glance. 

“See you at the finish,” said Maedhros softly. 

“See my dust at the finish,” countered Fingon, but she reached down to squeeze Maedhros’ hand lightly. 

“Runners, take your marks!” 

They crouched, eyes fixed, muscles tensed in preparation. 

The gun, the acrid smell of smoke.

And they were off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. Title from the poem “100m Hurdles”, by William Borden  
> 1\. When I came up with my [Great Finwian Genderswap Track AU](http://imindhowwelayinjune.tumblr.com/post/93169854908/the-great-finwian-track-field-genderswap-au), I thought it was just a fun universe to have in my head. It gave me something to think about on my runs (and laugh/weep over the irony of Aredhel throwing javelin.) But then somehow it took over my brain, and this fic leaked out, and yeah, I dunno if this is the end of it, because I keep thinking of new ideas and figuring out what event everyone would do (Turgon is flummoxing me) and it also makes me all nostalgic for the days when I was a runner. Which is a laugh, because boy, did I hate track. I was a miler and 800 runner, incidentally.  
> 2\. Ages are basically whatever the fuck, because I can’t be bothered to make it scale. Maedhros is a senior, Fingon is a junior, that’s about all I got.  
> 3\. Names remain the same, because my Sindarin is balls and I see no reason why they should get butchered just for the sake of feminine endings. Fëanor and Fingolfin were progressive parents; they gave their daughters the names they liked and hang the gender.


End file.
